Feels Like Home
by MadAuntieKeith
Summary: Prompt fill for americalupin- Kieren's not quite used to the cold just yet (spend five years with no concept of temperature and it'll take you by surprise!), and decides to go in search of warmth, company and comfort food. Fortunately, Simon is willing to provide all three! Pure, unadulterated fluffy Siren (but with some sexy talk and swearing, I just rate things T by default tbh.)


**Me, again! Internet was down for me yesterday so I occupied myself with a fluffy prompt fill, yay!**

**The prompt was from americalupin on Tumblr, with a request for Kieren wearing Simon's jumpers! This is probably the shortest Siren fic I've written as it consists solely of sleepy cuddles, comfort food and some very flirty suggestions (Simon, you smooth fucker, you).**

**So, have fun! :D**

* * *

When the shivering started it took Kieren a few moments to realise what was wrong. His heart had only jump-started a few days ago, and from time to time the baser requirements of living still slipped his mind.

He leaned forward, breathing onto his hands and attempting to rub warmth back into his arms. He glanced at the snow settling outside the window and grimaced. Sometimes he forgot that he couldn't just walk around in a t-shirt in the depths of winter anymore. A shame, really, he'd only just got to the stage where he could walk around without covering his scars. Not that he had any scars to cover anymore- they'd virtually disappeared by now, nothing more than a couple of raised white lines on his skin.

He stood up, glancing around the room for anything he could use to cover himself. Unfortunately, the bungalow was still less than appropriately stocked for beings of the living, breathing variety. Simon had promised to pick up some essentials on his way home from Give-Back, but he had no idea how long he'd be. And he didn't particularly want to sit around and freeze until he found out.

He sighed heavily and slouched out of the room, leaving the TV and its daytime sitcom reruns droning on in the background. He really should find something better to do with his life now that he had one again. He told himself he would look around, maybe go to college or find a job, but right now he had a working stomach and a lot of lazy days of junk food and fizzy drinks to catch up on.

He wondered into Simon's (and his, but he still wasn't used to the idea of it being 'theirs' yet) bedroom, meaning to grab the duvet from the bed and drag it to the sofa. He seized a corner and gave it a yank, but paused as he heard something flop to the floor. He bent over, peeking down at the floor beside the bed with a frown.

One of Simon's jumpers lay crumpled on the ground- he must have left it on the bed this morning. Kieren picked it up with a snort. He still couldn't believe his boyfriend actually wore these things. The thick grey and black wool hung limply from his grasp. _Incredibly _thick wool, in fact. His cold arms prickled.

He glanced between the jumper and the rumpled duvet, carefully deciding which would look the least ridiculous/embarrassing to be found in when Simon got home. After deciding that being found in a bundle of hideous yarn and being curled up in a duvet tent both looked equally preposterous, he settled for the most practical option. No point being curled up in a blanket if he got cold arms every time he needed to reach out for something.

He slipped the lumpy sweater over his head, laughing to himself as he stuck his hands through the sleeves and found that they were far too long. He waggled the floppy overhanging hems with amusement. Simon wasn't all that much taller than him- a few inches, tops- but somehow his clothes still dwarfed him, he must deliberately buy them a size or two up. He had to speak to him about buying some clothes in his intended size, apparently these ridiculous garments were just unflattering from start to finish. Still, it was warm and comfy, and right now that was all he needed.

He sauntered back to the living room, flopping down on the sofa and lying back with his feet and head propped on the armrests. He turned his face to the screen, deeply inhaling the comforting smell that now covered him like a blanket.

He barely made it five minutes into the next episode of _Friends_ before he was fast asleep.

* * *

"Kier, I'm home," Simon called out, closing the door behind him with his foot and setting down his many shopping bags in the hall. "Got all the stuff you wanted- they were out of the chocolate you like so I just got…"

He trailed off as he realised that he hadn't had a reply yet. He frowned. Usually Kieren practically assaulted him upon entering, often diving in with hugs, kisses or demands for food. Sometimes all three. Seeing as he currently spent all his days camped out in front of the TV with minimal contact with other life forms he had a habit of getting overexcited whenever he heard the door- like a puppy waiting for its owner to get home. Not that Simon was his owner, in fact if he had to guess he'd say it was probably the other way round. Still, it was as good an analogy as any.

"Kier?" He called again, poking his head into the kitchen and seeing no sign of his sarcastic ginger housemate. "Kieren? You home?"

He scratched his head, strolling into the main room and noticing that the TV was on, some vintage sitcom filling the room with a quiet layer of background noise. He looked down to the back of the sofa that faced him, and smiled as he saw the top of a familiar reddish-blonde head poking out from the end.

"Afternoon, sleepyhead," he said, strolling over and resting his hands on the back of the sofa as he looked down on Kieren's dozing form. "So, another busy day?" he said dryly, reaching down to nudge his boyfriend's shoulder.

He stopped just short of his hand reaching its destination, a grin breaking across his face as he observed the thick black and grey wool wrapped around the sleeping teen's skinny torso. Someone had been plundering his wardrobe.

He bent over to press a light kiss to the side of his head, ruffling his sleep-mussed hair gently. He didn't have the heart to wake him up just yet.

* * *

Kieren woke to the smell of bacon wafting through the air, and he blinked his dark eyes open lazily. He rubbed a wrist across his face, too sleepy to give much thought to the scratchy feeling of wool brushing his nose. He sniffed against the tickling and got another tantalising lungful of the delicious smell.

"Simon?" he called sleepily, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. "You home?"

"In here," came the reply, and he could hear the smile in his voice.

Kieren dragged himself up from the warmth of the couch, clicking the TV off and staggering towards the kitchen on unsteady feet.

When he reached the kitchen he leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms as a drowsy grin crossed his face. "Afternoon."

"Evening," Simon smiled, greeting and correcting his bewildered housemate in one easy word. He dipped his spatula and flipped over the rapidly cooking bacon rashers, sending up a fresh wave of sizzling that made Kieren's mouth water. "Should've known the imminent promise of food would summon you."

"What, that _wasn't _your plan?" Kieren laughed, crossing over to Simon and wrapping his arms around his waist from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder and deeply inhaling the delectable scent.

"Alright, you've got me there," Simon chuckled, leaning his head against Kieren's. "So, cheese and bacon toastie for dinner? You eaten anything other than crisps and gummy bears since I left this morning?"

"Well… I think I had an apple around lunchtime," Kieren defended lamely, much to Simon's amusement.

"Should take better care of yourself," he chastised, scooping up the crispy rashers and spreading them over the waiting slices of cheese and bread. "Normal health rules apply, remember?"

"I know, I know," Kieren groaned, rolling his eyes. "I'll get right on it. Just got several years of snack-binging to catch up on first."

"Of course," Simon said sympathetically, quickly assembling the layers and placing the finished product in the sandwich toaster. He clicked it on and turned to face his pouting boyfriend as the bread toasted. He smiled, putting his hands on Kieren's waist and pulling him close to lay a kiss on his forehead. "Just so long as you look after yourself- didn't jump in front of a bullet for you only to have you keel over from a heart attack half a year later!"

"No keeling over," Kieren agreed, grinning. "Promise."

He leaned in, Simon following suit. Their lips moved together gently, lazily, their bodies moulding to each other as they relaxed into the kiss, hot and cold skin melting into a long, slow, languorous embrace.

"Missed you," Kieren mumbled as he broke away for breath- sometimes he forgot that he actually needed the air again.

"I can tell," Simon replied, his hands bunching in the familiar wool at the younger man's sides.

"Got cold," Kieren muttered, burying his face in the crook of the Irish man's shoulder to hide the blush that rose in his cheeks.

Simon hummed quietly, pressing a gentle kiss to his neck. "Warming up?"

"Yeah," Kieren grinned, his arms tightening around Simon's body. "Lots."

They stood like that in silence for a while, content to simply hold on and breathe each other in. Simon leaned back against the counter, his hands on Kieren's hips as he supported his weight. Kieren kept his eyes closed, happy to just inhale the homey scent of damp earth and hair gel that screamed of Simon. It took him a few minutes to notice the new smell in the mix.

"Si?" he murmured drowsily.

"Yeah, gorgeous?" Simon hummed.

"Bacon's burning."

"Wha- OH, FUCK IT!"

* * *

"You really don't have to eat that," Simon insisted, eyeing the blackened and crumbling sandwich in Kieren's hands.

"Simon, it's fine, really!" Kieren laughed. True, there were plenty of singed edges and the cheese had gone from cold to gooey to burnt to a crisp, but after five years of tasting nothing but soil and ash on his tongue even incinerated bacon tasted like a gift from the gods.

"So much for taking care of yourself," Simon muttered, smiling as Kieren kicked his shin. They sat facing each other on the sofa, backs against the armrests and sock-clad feet meeting in the middle. The TV droned on in the background- apparently the BBC was having a Doctor Who tribute night- and Kieren was watching fairly intently (one of his favourite episodes, apparently- although the creepy gas mask kid was a bit unnerving), but Simon was quite content to just gaze at his face. It was still weird, seeing him with dark eyes and rich skin that didn't look false or sickly. He'd fallen in love with his undead form but he already knew he was going to fall even harder for the new Kieren- the pink tinge that rose in his cheeks when he whispered something suggestive in his ear was to die for (pun intended). He wondered how many more delightful little discoveries he had yet to make…

"You listening to me?"

Simon blinked and was assailed by momentary paranoia. How long had Kieren been talking? And for that matter, how long had he been staring?

But Kieren didn't seem annoyed. He grinned fondly, seeming amused. "You do that a lot, don't you?"

Simon shrugged. "What can I say? You're captivating," he purred, smiling in satisfaction as Kieren's warm cheeks warmed further.

"Even when I'm stuffing my face with crumbling cheese toasties?" Kieren chuckled, surreptitiously brushing off the crumbs he'd dropped on Simon's jumper.

The ex-disciple grinned, shuffling forward and resting his arms on Kieren's knees, his feet pressing the armrest on either side of his hips. "Always," he murmured, leaning forward and kissing Kieren's warm lips tenderly (and thanking his lucky stars that he didn't have taste buds of his own yet because his stunning boyfriend had spent the last ten minutes eating burnt cheese and cremated bacon). "Besides, you look too fucking adorable for words in my clothes," he whispered, gripping handfuls of the thick jumper at Kieren's waist.

The blush intensified, Kieren looked down at his nearly empty plate. "Yeah, well, I still think these stupid things are hideous, but…" he shrugged and smiled softly. "Well, they are comfy."

Simon raised his eyebrow. "Yeah? That all?"

Kieren snorted. "Yeah, 'course," he said flippantly. No need to mention how much he liked the cosy, Simon-ish smell that lingered in the yarn.

Still, Simon was perfectly happy with the explanation. He leaned in again, pressing adoring kisses to the younger man's cheeks and jaw. "Should raid my drawers more often- suits you. Mind you, it'd look even better tossed across the back of this couch," he murmured seductively. "I quite like that idea- peeling my clothes off your back, bet you I could do it with just my teeth…"

The soon-to-be-nineteen-year-old temporarily lost the ability to speak English. "Uh…"

Simon smirked, running his lips along his jawline. "Tell you what, it sounds even more tempting now that you can feel stuff like this," he said smoothly, lightly nipping Kieren's skin below the ear. The fair-haired man whimpered and nearly dropped his plate. Simon grinned devilishly. "I live for those little sounds you make…"

"Be even better when you can feel it, too," Kieren whispered, ducking forward to bestow his own kisses on Simon's cheek, below his pale eyes.

"Don't hold your breath," Simon muttered, continuing his path down Kieren's neck to the new pulse beneath his skin.

"Can't be far off," Kieren said, his initial confidence returning.

"What makes you say that?" Simon asked, humouring him.

"'Cause your hand's been shaking on and off for the last half an hour," Kieren stated simply, grabbing Simon's faintly trembling palm and lifting it up for his inspection.

Simon grimaced. "Nothing gets past you, eh?"

Kieren cocked his head to the side. "Why didn't you say something?"

The Irish man shrugged, looking down at Kieren's chest and the remains of the toastie on his plate. He'd eaten around the centre, the least burnt part. Must have been saving it for last. "Didn't want to worry you."

"Why would I be worried?" Kieren asked incredulously, lacing his fingers with Simon's. "It's brilliant!"

Simon smiled timidly, lifting Kieren's hand to his mouth. "Wasn't sure if you'd still want me when I'm… y'know," he muttered, tracing his lips along his knuckles.

"All warmed up?" Kieren finished, shaking his head disbelievingly. "Well that's just bloody stupid of you, isn't it?"

"Explain how it's stupid," Simon challenged, meeting his gaze. "You've only seen me with the cover-up once and you hated it."

"Yeah, but that's different!" Kieren argued. "You know it is- you hated mine, too, remember? Well, d'you hate how I look now?"

"'Course not!" Simon said without hesitation, raising his free hand to Kieren's face. "You look beautiful, you always do!"

Kieren grinned triumphantly. "See? And so will you, when the time comes!" he released Simon's fingers and set his plate down on the table, resting his palms on either side of the dark-haired man's face. "I'm looking forward to finding out what colour your real eyes are."

"I could have just told you that."

"No spoilers!" Kieren said firmly, pressing a finger to his lips.

"Alright, alright, no spoilers!" Simon agreed, laughing as he pulled Kieren's hand from his mouth.

Kieren raised his eyebrows. "Promise?"

"Cross my heart," Simon vowed.

They smiled at each other, bathed in the soft glow of the TV.

"So," Simon breathed suggestively, leaning forward and resting his hands on Kieren's hips again. "What was I saying about this jumper? Something about peeling it off with my teeth…"

Kieren was not about to get flustered again. He met Simon's intense gaze confidently with a mischievous smirk. "Sounds delightful. I'm in."

"You want to finish this episode and eat the rest of your sandwich first?" Simon offered, glancing at the specially saved remains with a smile- he'd happily keep his libido under control a bit longer for the hungry Whovian's sake.

Kieren stared at him for a moment, and a slow smile spread across his face. "I love you."

"Love you, too," Simon beamed, picking up the plate and shoving it into his boyfriend's hands eagerly. "Now, eat. You're going to need your stamina."

Kieren sent him a saucy wink that almost set his dead heart a-beating right then and there. "I'm counting on it."

* * *

**Hope you liked it :3**

**Got one more prompt to fill, plus a collab fic and of course seven more chapters of Broken Masks, so I have my work cut out for me! (as well as a long overdue Sherlolly update. By the way if you're one of the people who've been sending me rude update demands about that, I don't appreciate it- and you wouldn't appreciate it either if I caved to your demands and churned out an awfully written chapter that reads terribly and butchers any hard work I did on the first two. I will update, but when you have limited passion for the characters and a lot of people on your back it can take time. Any polite readers who are patiently waiting, I love you to pieces and I hope not to leave you hanging too much longer xxx)**

**Until next time! X**


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